


Patience

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Creampie, Human!zenyatta, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Marking, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 20:29:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21003713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *Sigma/Zenyatta* written for Kinktober 2019, day 12 - overstimulation





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> prompt and ship from robotfvckers!

**Patience**

The muffled, soft moans are enticing, enough that the sound keeps pulling him away from his equations.

Siebren glances up through the rim of his reading glasses, over the stack of papers he’s checking over and to the laboratory table. On top of it, Zenyatta is covering his mouth with both hands, eyes shut as he writhes in place, thighs spread and shaking, ankles tied to the edge of the table.

Between his legs, buried deep inside him, Siebren’s favourite vibrator buzzes on against Zenyatta’s prostate, and he blinks in surprise when he sees strands of come cover Zenyatta’s naked stomach.

“Hmmm…” he narrows his eyes, pleased. “How many times is it, now?”

Zenyatta’s eyes snap open at the sound of his voice, and instead of answering he only moans, biting on his fingers to keep the sound down.

“Now, now, no need for that. You know I love to hear you,” Siebren taps one finger on the table, idly, and his eyes are captured by Zenyatta’s cock, dark and still so aching hard. “You need to answer me properly, darling.”

Zenyatta parts his lips, and a line of drool drips from the corner of his mouth, eyes glazed in pleasure. His hands hover in the air, unsteady, and it is obvious he’s trying hard not to touch himself –but Siebren told him not to, and so far, he’s been deliciously obedient.

“How many times, Zenyatta?” he asks again, when he sees his eyes flutter close.

Zenyatta whines –the sound deep from his throat, needy and dry– and his thighs tense as he tries to move but can’t. his cock bobs between his legs, and Siebren watches, eyes narrowed, as Zenyatta gasps in short, hurried bouts, abandoned on the table.

“Th…” he tries to answer, but he’s not fast enough.

Siebren toys with the remote control he has at his side, and Zenyatta’s eyes widen and he arches up on the table, stretched beautifully and spread out for him, hands scrambling for purchase, holding on the edge of the table, and he _screams_–

“Ah– ah… ah–”

He pushes his hips in the air, uselessly, his cock untouched, the vibrator merciless against his prostate, and Siebren waits only a few more seconds, enamoured with the curve of Zenyatta’s throat, before he lowers the intensity of the vibration.

Zenyatta slumps over, chest heaving, and he’s shaking, cheeks burning in exertion, nails digging into the table’s edges.

“How many, Zenyatta?”

“I… ah… th– three… hnnn–” but Zenyatta jolts, lips parted in a beautiful ‘oh’, and his cock twitches hard, strands of white coming to cover him in messy spurts as he comes once again, wheezing, eyes blown open as he stares at him.

“I see.” Siebren smiles. “Then, this is the fourth, yes?”

Zenyatta nods, and his body still shakes in the afterglow.

He’s had him like this for a while, now, like the beautiful piece of art he is, but he cannot fuck Zenyatta for this long on his own, so while he recovers, Siebren _has_ to keep him entertained.

Thankfully, Zenyatta doesn’t seem to mind.

He stands, slowly, makes a show of walking towards him, circling the table to get a good view of Zenyatta from every side. He is so beautiful like this, dark skin that begs for him to mark it, lips so full and plump it is a wonder Siebren has time to do any work, with how much he desires to kiss him, thighs straining from the ties keeping them open, muscles tense, lower body covered in his own come…

Slowly, he takes the vibrator out, making sure to move it around as he does so, and Zenyatta almost thrashes, the deep whine coming from his throat music to Siebren’s ears.

Like this, it is easier to focus on Zenyatta, and not on the melody in the background, a constant companion for him.

The vibrator leaves behind a small trail, and Siebren hums, displeased. “Oh, that won’t do –such a waste, if it doesn’t stay _inside_ you…”

He rubs the trail with a thumb, tracing the contours of Zenyatta’s entrance, pushing inside, and Siebren swallows when he feels how warm and wet and open Zenyatta feels. He pushes in a second finger, finds Zenyatta responsive, arching into his touch, mouth open and panting, and with the third finger Zenyatta swallows and moans, pleading for him to continue.

“Hmmm… just ready for more, are you? Even with four, you simply want more.”

“Ye-yes, ah–”

Siebren unlatches his pants slowly, barely enough to get his cock out, and strokes it slowly, testing himself. He shivers –it might take him a little longer, then.

“Soon, my dear, soon,” he murmurs.

He kneels in front of the lab table, and opens his mouth to taste the soft expanse of Zenyatta’s thighs, teeth barely grazing the skin before biting down –not to hurt but to mark, sucking and licking at every spot.

Zenyatta jolts at the first bite, his cock uselessly bobbing between his legs, ignored and aching, and now there’s not even a vibrator inside him to keep him sated –just Siebren’s words as he murmurs, over and over again, that Zenyatta is doing good.

“You will keep it all inside, will you?” he tells, inching closer to where Zenyatta needs him, only to mouth at the sensitive skin just on the side of his burning cock. “Clench tightly and not let a droplet come out, and if you do that, I’ll give you more.”

Zenyatta’s head bob and he gasps his name, almost frantic. The vibrator has left him still on the edge, though of course, part of it is thanks to the aphrodisiac Siebren has smeared inside him, the feverish flush of Zenyatta’s cheeks only reassuring him it’s still working.

Siebren doesn’t like to do things half-assed, and Zenyatta is first on the list of things to do, after all.

He returns to Zenyatta’s entrance with both thumbs, spreading him, and Zenyatta’s eyes widen in shock, lips parted in a desperate gasp, and clenched down against the fingers that Siebren slips inside, scissoring him.

“Ah–”

Siebren thinks it is enough –the soft sounds, the smell, the sight of Zenyatta spread for him and still keeping his hands to himself, not touching his cock or him… yes, it is enough.

Cock already half hard, Siebren mounts on the table, taking care to touch Zenyatta as little as possible, and watches as Zenyatta’s eyes flutter open, tilting his neck up to him.

There is a mark there already, even darker against his skin, and Siebren traces it with a thumb, pressing into it until he feels Zenyatta’s heart pulse under it. “Do you want more, Zenyatta?”

“_Yes_–”

“Will you be good for me, my darling?”

“_Yes!_”

He hums, the tip of his cock catching on Zenyatta’s opening, not pushing in, and Zenyatta shakes under him, and his hands finally move to grab Siebren’s shoulders, tugging him down, exposing his throat so Siebren can suck and lick and bite at it, pushing his hips into Zenyatta so the tip of his cock can enter him, slowly.

Even then, he pauses, savouring the frantic way Zenyatta tugs at his shirt, straining to arch into him.

With one hand, he caresses the curve of Zenyatta’s cock, gently, feather-like, eats the gasp with his own lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into Zenyatta’s mouth to muffle more of his sounds.

Beautiful as he is, Siebren can’t get enough of him –and the spike of anger at the thought of anyone coming in his lab, anyone seeing Zenyatta like this is only mitigated by the thought that even if they did, they would see Zenyatta belonged to _him_.

His to fuck and his to fill and mark.

Siebren stiffens, and the hand around Zenyatta’s cock twitches and tightens its hold, stroking and rubbing the underside with a steely grip, smearing the precum all over its length.

Zenyatta moans and kisses him back, sloppy and hungry, and his cock burns in his hand.

Siebren bites down on his lower lip, tugs at it and chases Zenyatta’s mouth with his own, kissing him again and again, feels the way Zenyatta’s muscles try to clench around the tip of his cock inside him, to get more of it, and still he waits.

He waits as he strokes Zenyatta, waits as Zenyatta murmurs his name like a prayer, lips bruised and swollen as he kisses them again, he waits against his own desire, for the delicious pleasure of having Zenyatta break and beg.

With his free hand, he caresses Zenyatta’s cheek, thumb pressing into his mouth, and Zenyatta weakly sucks on his digit, breathing through his nose.

All of this is his, as it should _be_.

He slips inside him so easily, in one single push, and Zenyatta clenches down around his cock, making Siebren hiss, his teeth clamping down on Zenyatta’s throat hard enough he feels him yelp.

“Easy, easy,” he murmurs against his neck, and moves his hands down his chest to rub at his nipples, pinching them, cupping the soft skin and following it up with more bites, more marks, and fucks into him slowly enough Zenyatta _trembles_.

“More,” is the whispered plea he gets.

“So greedy,” he answers, a smirk on his lips. “For a monk, you want so much…”

“O-only you,” Zenyatta breathes, eyes wide and hazy with pleasure, and by the way he clings to him, writhing to get closer, to get Siebren to fuck him like he means it, Siebren knows it’s not a lie.

“You have me,” he says, and the grin turns darker, the hands on his check digging into him, pushing him down into the table. “Me and only me, my dear.”

When he starts to fuck him, slow and steady but as deep as he can go, Zenyatta does not last much longer, coming again so hard he screams through gritted teeth, cock jerking dry again and again.

“Count it, pretty monk,” he orders against his ear, smirk turning into a snarl. “Count for me. How many times?”

“F-fi–” Zenyatta sobs, a mess of pleasure and fatigue, chest heaving, but finally he gets the word out. “Five–!”

“Still not enough,” Siebren mutters. “You can have _more_.”

The steady rhythm he takes next has Zenyatta wailing, Siebren’s cock pounding him so hard he holds onto the table behind his head like an anchor.

Every time he thrusts inside, he can feel Zenyatta’s body curl on itself, wanting to keep him in, and every time he slides off, bracing himself, Zenyatta pants and tries to get him back.

It is mesmerizing, and Siebren curses his own humanity, and how he’s already far too close, cock burning and twitching inside Zenyatta.

He fucks him faster, then, with abandon, hips snapping so hard he bends Zenyatta almost in half, and as he comes hard, filling him again, his cock spent and oversensitive, he continues to ram into him, unable to stop, the wet sounds of skin on skin and Zenyatta’s screams only making him want to push _more_.

Siebren does not plan to end this anytime soon –not until he’s filled his pretty little monk as much as he can take, and some more.

He cannot wait to see how long Zenyatta will last.


End file.
